Light and Darkness
by SynchronizedSuicide
Summary: On July 18, 1964, Cassie Sully is caught in the New York City Race Riots.  She is saved by Hades in the midst of the riots.  Before long, she becomes the object of a feud between Apollo and Hades.  Will she escape or be destroyed by their fight?
1. The Riot

"Officer? Excuse me, Officer—" I took a quick glance at his badge— "I mean, _Lieutenant _Gilligan. I'm Cassie Sully. I called yesterday to see if I could do some research with your records."

Lieutenant Gilligan, a brusque-looking older man, eyed me with the usual response of the people I encountered: a mix of "hippie" and "Is that Francoise Hardy?" It's not like I could blame him. My outfit (a peasant blouse, bell-bottoms, and worn black Converse All-Stars) screamed anti-war protestor. All I needed to complete the look was a leather thong around my hair and a black armband. The Francoise Hardy look-alike issue was acceptable (and quite flattering), too. Even my own mother found the resemblance uncanny.

"Yes, I do remember your call," he answered distantly, adjusting his rimless glasses. Something about him seemed very familiar. "Our record room is just down the hall. You'll need this key." I took the small key from him and pocketed it. "You said you're researching the Harlem Renaissance and its effect on crime? I gotta admit; I'm a little confused."

I resisted the urge to sigh. No one seemed to understand my project. It had reached the point of annoying and had me questioning whether my thesis was just too advanced or completely idiotic. Nonetheless, I explained halfheartedly, "My thesis is that education, art culture, and crime rates all coincide. During the Harlem Renaissance, citizens of the Harlem area received better education, through schooling or word of mouth. Therefore, the culture of Harlem grew more art oriented. Education and an inclination towards the arts coaxed people away from crime. If your records show lower crime rates in the '20s and '30s, then my thesis has even more support."

Gilligan looked less than convinced. "Maybe you just moved to NYC, but Harlem's crime rates are sky-high, little miss. I don't think the Renaissance did much."

_Damn this fool_, I thought angrily. I might explode if I had to deal with one more close-minded moron. "It's Cassie." My tone was less than friendly. "And the Harlem Renaissance only lasted through the 1920s and 1930s, as I've already said. The European Renaissance isn't still having a heavy cultural effect today, is it? You know, excluding its discoveries and artistic works. It's the same way with the Harlem Renaissance." Gilligan looked pretty miffed, but hey, I wasn't trying to be nice him. He gave me a gruff "carry on" and gestured down the hall with his chin. It wasn't until I reached the record room that I realized why he seemed familiar. Lieutenant Thomas Gilligan, the man who had murdered 15 year old James Powell just two days earlier. The death had been all over the papers, and the citizens of Harlem were in uproar.

It sickened me to be in the same place (the 28th Precinct) as that man. I couldn't wait to leave. Research, however, was a tedious thing. It was also necessary if I wanted to be accepted into advanced history classes in my senior year of high school. Sighing at what would undoubtedly be a long, long night, I pulled the key to the record room out of my pocket and checked my watch. 2:13 PM on July 18, 1964. I'd be stuck in the cramped, musty record room until at least eight.

My large canvas satchel hit the floor with a thud. It was full to bursting with notebooks, pens, and books that explained how to properly read crime reports. What a way to spend one of my last two summers at home. Hours passed consisting of nothing but searching through reports, categorizing crimes, rewriting every _damned_ report, analyzing case files, and reorganizing every file. By the time I had finished (and become convinced that I had put too much work into something I could have easily faked), it was already nine o'clock. Gilligan was still at the front desk when I emerged. He must've been staying indoors ever since the shooting.

He grinned cockily, "So, how'd the researching go, little miss?"

My hand twitched. It would be wonderful to just get one punch in. I didn't really want to be arrested for assaulting an officer, though. "It went well; I found everything I wanted. Maybe you should just call me 'Cassandra.' I don't particularly appreciate 'little miss.'"

Gilligan chuckled. "Whatever makes you happy, Cassie."

This stupid fuck was really trying to make me angry, wasn't he? I shot him one last smoldering glare and stormed outside to hail a cab. It would have been smarter to call the family chauffeur. I wasn't thinking at the time, though. A cab pulled up in front of the 28th Precinct around the same time that the shouting started. A massive group of people carrying signs and pictures of Thomas Gilligan approached the precinct. Every member was shouting "Justice!" as loudly as possible.

The cab driver cursed and sped away before I could get in. "WAIT!" I screeched as he drove away. A rock flew by my head as the rioters grew even closer. Fight or flight instinct kicked in, and I sprinted down the road. The fight instinct wasn't going to function when it was me versus a hundred people. My years on the track team were definitely paying off as I flew down the poorly lit streets of Harlem. Harlem was relatively empty that night; however, I passed a group of boys about my age. Later on in life, I would look back on that as both the worst and the best thing that ever happened to me.

"Where you headed, sweetheart?" they called after me. I could hear footsteps close behind. My lungs were burning, and I had to find a way out before my legs gave out. Every door was closed, and every alley had a dead end. The sounds of a riot were beginning to echo throughout the area. Men and women chanted "Justice!" even more loudly, and crashes and the roar of fires sounded nearby. Then, like a gift from God, I spotted a fire escape just inside the next alley. Some fool had left the bottom ladder hanging down. If I could just climb it and pull up the ladder, I'd be safe just long enough to get help.

"Help!" I screamed and turned into the alley. The sounds of the riot were growing louder. The boys were still laughing and shouting (drunkenly, from what I could tell) just behind me. "HELP!" The bolts holding the ladder in place gave way as I leapt onto it. I crashed to the ground, the ladder colliding with my head and sending sparks into my vision. A few seconds later, rough hands were pulling me out from under the ladder and across the ground. I kicked out furiously and struggled. The stars were leaving my vision, and I could clearly see five African American boys looming over me. "Get off! No! NO!"

"Where you think you're going, snowflake?" one chuckled as he hauled me up and pushed me against a brick wall.

"C'mon, Jason. Why you always get them first?" another boy protested sullenly.

The one holding me (apparently named Jason) rolled his eyes. "'Cause all of this was my idea and the girls like me better. Ain't that right, snowflake?" Growling, I freed one of my arms from Jason's grip and scratched him across the face. "Bitch, I know you didn't!" His face contorted in rage, and his fist collided with my mouth. Blood welled from my broken lip into my mouth. "Now shut up and keep still."

I spit the blood into his face. "Go to Hell!" A couple of the other boys laughed. The remaining ones stared at me like I had just changed the direction the planet revolves.

Jason pulled a switchblade from his pocket and wiped the blood off of his face. "You're gonna regret doing that, snowflake." My heart was racing. The darkness of the alley seemed darker than natural. The dankness and close quarters were suffocating me. I felt as if I was going to throw up or pass out. The tip of the knife danced over my collarbone, up my neck, around my lips, and continued roaming around my face. "Now, that kind of behavior just ain't acceptable. Where you think I should start on her pretty little face, boys?"

"Cut up those pretty little lips!" one volunteered. "Glasgow smile!" said another.

Tears were streaming down my face. _My god, I'm going to die_, I thought hysterically. "HELP!" I began screaming incoherently. The blood vessels in my eyes must have burst by the time Jason slammed my head against the wall.

"SHUT UP, BITCH!"

"Just kill her, Jason!" growled the same boy who had suggested giving me a Glasgow smile.

The bare brick behind me was scraping the skin off my arms as I struggled violently. I didn't want to die. I was only seventeen, and I had plans for my life. Then, as quickly as the group of boys had gotten ahold of me, they were gone. Well, they weren't gone. They lay on the ground, each one wearing a gruesome Glasgow Smile with slit throats. An unearthly rumble filled the alley, and as much as I wanted to run, my legs were like lead. The shadows expanded, consuming everything and blackening my vision except for one thing: a man standing in the middle of the darkness. He took my breath away: tall, easily 6'4" (though that was only two inches taller than me); perfect pale skin; piercing black eyes; broad shoulders with a strong build; and the most masculine, alluring face I had ever seen. Despite my sheer terror, I could feel myself melting underneath his gaze.

He smirked. "Hello, Cassandra." My legs finally gave way, and I began to sink to the ground. The mystery man moved with inhuman speed and caught me before I could fall. My breath was coming in sporadic bursts, and I was trembling violently. The man wiped away the tears that were welling in my eyes. "Don't be afraid, love. You're safe now. I won't let anyone hurt you."

His words relaxed me, and I leaned a bit more heavily against his chest. The way his black eyes were locked with my gray ones was a bit disconcerting, though. "Who—who are you? I—what's your name?" I stammered, searching his face to see if there was any answer I could find myself.

"I wouldn't expect a modern woman to know my face," he chortled, brushing a sweaty strand of hair out of my face. I tensed at the contact. "I told you, _relax_." A crooked grin spread across his face. "My name is Hades."The darkness, the murdered boys, and his inhuman characteristics: they all made sense. I was in the arms of the God of the Dead. My eyes rolled backwards, and reality slipped away.


	2. Awakening

What could have been hours or days later, my eyes fluttered open. The first thing that I noticed was how comfortable I was. It felt like I was lying on a cloud. This "cloud" was a massive bed, covered entirely in black silk: black silk sheets; black silk pillowcases over down-filled pillows; and a heavy, black silk duvet. It was unbelievably warm and relaxing beneath the duvet. Then I pushed it away and sat up, only to realize the room I was in was icy cold...and I didn't have any clothes on. Fear set in, and I pulled the blankets up to cover my exposed torso.

_Where the Hell am I?_ I thought, mesmerized by the room. The bed was a four poster with heavy, black velvet curtains. The posts were made of onyx, covered in twisting patterns of platinum and gold, and encrusted in precious gems: emerald; sapphire; ruby; and diamond. As I studied it more, I saw that the bed was actually a part of the room, meaning that the entire place (walls, floors, ceiling, and the other bits of furniture) was carved out of one football field-sized deposit of onyx. It was a marvel even without its opulence.

The bed was situated in the center of the massive chamber, which was dotted with lavishly decorated onyx columns to support the vast ceiling (which was also decorated in precious gems and metals). To my left was a good sized library with floor-to-ceiling shelves (the ceilings of the room were around thirty feet high). To my right was a living area with a large fireplace (maybe six feet tall and equally wide), a massive Persian rug, and three sturdy mahogany doors on the wall behind it. The doors were probably my favorite parts of the room. They meant there was a way out. If I could just tie the sheets the right way, I'd have something close to clothes...then it hit me.

There was no way that I'd be leaving this place so easily. I had been brought here by Hades, the God of the Dead and Wealth. I couldn't just sneak away. A feeling of confinement permeated the room. Had it not been for the fact that my clothes were gone, I would have been happy to be in such grandeur. But Hades had taken me to what must have been Erebus and stripped me naked, rather than returning me home. His intentions couldn't be entirely honorable.

"What do you think of your room, Cassandra?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Hades suddenly appeared, lounging on the settee in the living area. A fire roared to life in the fireplace, and a self-confident smirk spread across his face. A terrified lump formed in my throat, and I nodded like a complete idiot. Rapists in Harlem, I could handle. The God of the Dead staring me down was another story.

"Good," he said, absently running his hand along the settee's rich red silk upholstery. "It's one of the best rooms in Erebus; second only to my own...Do you know why I brought you here, Cassie?" I shook my head and pressed the blankets hard against my torso as Hades' eyes roamed lower than my neck. He vanished suddenly, only to reappear next to the bed. Still smiling, he sat down and faced me. The close quarters and lack of clothes made me want to run, but something in his dark gaze held me in place.

"I brought you here not because I had just saved you. That wasn't an entirely random event, you see. I've been watching you for a while now. I'm rather..." He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face. I noted that it was no longer sweaty, bloody, and tangled. Someone must have bathed me while I was out. In fact, it felt as if I'd been waxed, too. He continued, "_taken_ with you. Every now and again, a god or goddess takes special note of a mortal man or woman. I feel quite strongly for you, Cassie, and with Persephone gone for the spring and summer, I've become quite lonely."

I shied away from his touch. My heart was hammering, and I felt dizzy. There was no way that this was real. It was all a dream, and it would go away soon. Maybe if I just pinched myself...

Hades laughed loudly, startling me once more. "Pinching yourself won't help, Cassie." I nearly choked. "Yes, I can hear what you're thinking. I'm a god."

I swallowed hard and tried to avoid his gaze. "Then maybe you can hear—hear that I wa-ant to go home."

The smile grew sinister. "I can, but you're not going home until Persephone returns in September." My chest felt icy, and the feeling of entrapment and claustrophobia was overwhelming. "Here's the gist of things: you're beautiful—stop blushing, it's true—, I have feelings for you, and I have certain...needs...that need to be fulfilled while Persephone is away." My breath caught in my throat as he leaned forward and hooked a finger between the blanket and my skin. "Perhaps you should show your gratitude and help me to fulfill those needs."

"No!" I screamed and wrenched away from him. The fire roared angrily in the fireplace, turning black. The light of the room seemed to turn gray, dimming everything and making my surroundings black and white. Hades' smile disappeared, and a terrifying sneer spread across his face. Just the look in his eyes made my chest fill with ice; I had never been so terrified in my entire life.

"You _will_ do as I say," growled Hades, his voice disturbingly even.

Not likely. I leapt off the bed and sprinted towards one of the three doors, no longer caring that I didn't have any clothes. My hand brushed the doorknob (which appeared to be white gold, studded with moonstones), but I was seized by my hair and pulled back. Hades laughed maniacally and shouted, "You're not trying to escape through the wardrobe, are you? I didn't know you were from Narnia, Cassie!"

"Get the fuck off me!" I spat and kicked his leg. It was like kicking stone, and my ankle bent unnaturally. It didn't break, but it was definitely sprained. I cried out in pain and anguish; that injury meant I wouldn't be escaping anytime soon.

"Such language, Cassandra," chided Hades as he picked me up bridal style and carried me to the bed. The light of the room returned to normal, though it was still dim. The fire burned low and deep red. Tears were streaming down my face, my ankle was throbbing, and my heart was racing. Sobbing hopelessly, I struggled against Hades. He was too strong, though. Within seconds, I was back on the bed. I tried to crawl away, but the sheets came to life. They wrapped around my limbs and torso, forming some kind of hellish bondage. Behind me, I could hear the rustling of Hades removing his clothes.

"This could be enjoyable if you would just stop fighting," murmured Hades. The sheets went slack, and I could move. That freedom only lasted a moment, though. Hades grabbed me by the waist and sat down on the bed. He pulled me into his lap, causing me to blush deeply. I had never been with a man, so the feeling of his body against mine was terrifying. Had it been a man that I loved, I might have enjoyed the feeling of skin against skin. But Hades had kidnapped me. It was wrong, and I felt filthy.

"So beautiful," Hades said softly, running his hand from my stomach, between my breasts, and up to caress my jaw. His tempestuousness (from kind to controlling, violent to tender) terrified me. While he used one hand to trace my lips and the other to massage my rear, I took in his appearance. Admittedly, I was a bit ashamed. He was about to rape me, but Hades radiated masculinity. His face was—appropriately—divine: full lips; chiseled jaw and nose; a large forehead; and black eyes that seemed to swirl with emotion. His shoulder length raven hair fell into his eyes as he inclined his head slightly. My eyes wandered even lower, examining his torso: pale; strong; and sculpted as a marble statue. I didn't dare look any lower.

Hades let out a soft sigh and stopped tracing my lips. Before I could protest, his hand was between my legs, and he began sliding one finger into me. Some part of me just refused to accept the inevitable, so I shoved his hand away and clambered off his lap. "_Please, don't_," I sobbed as his face contorted with rage once again. The rage in his eyes only made me crawl farther away from him.

"Get. Back here. _Now_," he said, letting out a seething breath. The fire began to crackle loudly again. Beyond terrified, I shook my head and continued crawling backwards, almost reaching the foot of the bed. The muscles in Hades' neck went rigid as he clenched his jaw. "I see we'll be doing this the hard way." Like a snake, he lunged forward and pinned me to the bed. The kicking, screaming, and struggling began again. I could feel bruises forming all over me as I collided with his stone-like body. Hades squeezed my arms so tightly that I thought they would snap clean in two.

"Let me go! STOP IT!" I pleaded, fighting him as hard as I could.

"ENOUGH!" bellowed Hades. His voice bounced off the walls and forced me into silence. Half a second later, his hands wrapped around my throat. I couldn't breathe, let alone scream. "Listen to me, Cassandra. You can keep fighting, and I will choke you to _death_. And what good will that do? You'll be stuck in the Underworld for the rest of eternity, at _my_ mercy." I tried to drag in a breath and failed. Stars were beginning to dance in my vision. Not only were his hands stopping my breath, they were stopping the blood to my brain. "Or you can let me do what I want, and you'll be back home by September's end. Now, I'm going to let you go, and whatever decision you make right now will be permanent." Hades pulled his hands away, leaving me coughing and wheezing beneath him. The rush of blood to my head and oxygen to my lungs left me lightheaded. Hades gave me no time to collect myself, though. "Are you going to behave?" he whispered, holding my chin between his thumb and forefinger.

I shuddered lightly and a single tear slid down my cheek. "Yes."

The God of the Dead smiled and bit his lip lightly. "Good girl," he murmured and switched our position on the bed. I was back in the same position as I woke up in: head on the pillows and sprawled across the gigantic mattress. Hades kneeled over me, his rear grazing the tops of my thighs. Now I could see every inch of him, whether or not I wanted to. The first thing I noticed, of course, was his size. I'd never had sex before, and it was bound to hurt with Hades' generous endowments.

_Priapus must be a good friend of his_, I thought bitterly and shifted my gaze upwards so that Hades wouldn't see what I was staring at. The top of the four-poster was set with diamonds (ranging from pinpricks to the size of an apple) that emitted a bluish glow. It took me a moment to see that they were in the shape of the constellation Orion...my favorite. Seeing the stars—or something like them—brought me momentary comfort. However, that comfort vanished when Hades' hands began to wander. They came to rest on my breasts, and he began to trace the nipples with his fingers. That only added to how perky they were in the cold air. _Just focus on the stars. He'll finish soon enough._ Keeping disconnected was a challenge, however; Hades pulled roughly on my right nipple. I cried out and arched my back at the pain. He smirked at me as I raised a hand to cover my now aching breast.

Chuckling, Hades leaned forward and pressed his forehead against mine. "Did I hurt you, Cassie?" His breath—icy, sweet, and carrying the scent of pomegranates—washed over my face. "Let me make it better." My breath hitched in my throat as he moved my hand and sealed his lips around the nipple. Was it possible that his ministrations actually felt _good_? I refused to give in as Hades swirled his tongue around the nipple and gently tugged it with his teeth. It was obvious that the god's resolve was fading. He moved upwards and kissed me passionately, twisting his tongue with mine, and his semi-erect member grazed the inside of my thigh, dangerously close to my entrance.

At last, Hades pulled away. "I feel a little cheated. You're not doing anything to contribute to this."

The flush that was already set in my cheeks deepened. "I don't know how to."

Hades huffed. "Ah, right. There's that whole _virgin_ problem." He leaned down and ran the icy tip of his tongue over my sternum. "You need to be taught." With his mouth still against one of my breasts, the god grabbed my hand and guided it downward. I was still fighting the urge to wrench away from him or struggle while he wrapped my hand around his member. My arm twitched in nervousness. Hades sucked in a shallow breath. "Quick learner. Keep moving your hand."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

Hades rolled his dark eyes and ground his teeth together. "By Kronos...do this!" His large hand grasped my own and guided it back and forth over his now fully hardened shaft. The silkiness of his skin, the slow pulse underneath it, and the solidity of his length were mesmerizing to someone who had no experience. Curiosity got the best of me as my fingers began to escape his, tracing over the tip or circling the corona. Hades groaned and bit my breast lightly. "You're good at this, beautiful." I faltered in embarrassment, making Hades hiss through his teeth. He moved my spare hand to massage and pull on the sac beneath his member. I squeezed a little out of nervousness, causing the god to buck his hips against my hand bury his face between my breasts. In the hopes that he would hurry up and finish, I kept rolling his testicles around in my palm and worked his member a little faster. Before long, every muscle in his torso tensed, and he began to writhe, letting out animalistic groans. Then he bit down roughly on my breast (there would definitely be a bruise) and spilled his seed all over my abdomen.

Breathing heavily, Hades leaned back and ran a hand through his midnight black hair. A thin sheen of sweat covered his body. I was under the naïve impression that after releasing, he was done for the night; therefore, I began to slide my body out from under his, only to be grabbed and pulled back. Hades' mouth twisted into a wolfish grin. "You don't think I'm finished, do you?" A small towel and a crystal bottle of oil appeared on the bed. "We've only just begun, sweet Cassie." It was all I could do to not cry. I threw my arm over my eyes, and lay perfectly still as he cleaned my midsection with the towel. Only when he began to spread my legs did I pay attention.

"Hades, please." It felt odd using his name for the first time. "Please don't do this. I've already given you what you want."

He laughed harshly and opened the bottle of oil. "That was far from what I want. Now open your legs or I'll have to punish you." There was no point in fighting him, so I reluctantly obeyed. His grin grew even wider when he began looking at my womanhood. "Most girls of your age and your good looks aren't virgins anymore...I can't believe how lucky I am," he mused, dragging an oil coated finger through the lips between my legs. The feeling wasn't unpleasant until he slid the finger into me. I gasped. "I know it stings. Just relax."

_The hell is he talking about? How am I supposed to relax?_ I writhed at the burning between my legs. It was steadily fading, but that didn't make it feel any better.

"I said, _relax_," breathed Hades. He leaned down and dragged his tongue across the tiny knot of nerves above my entrance. My eyes bulged. I didn't even know that was something a person could do! His teeth skated across the same spot and effectively ended any train of thought I had. I cried out reflexively and pressed my hips against his face. The burning was gone, although I ached as Hades added a second finger and a third just a couple minutes later. The fingers began to curl and hit another sensitive spot _inside_ of me. Every muscle in my body began to tense: my eyes squeezed shut; I bit my lip; my toes and fingers began to curl; my hands gripped the sheets; and I pulled my knees up and together, capturing Hades' hands and head between my thighs.

Then a strange tingling feeling spread from between my hips to the pit of my stomach. I yelped as Hades pulled on my lower lips with his teeth and pushed my legs flat upon the bed. Some animal instinct made me reach down and grab a fistful of his hair. "Ah—Jesus Christ, what are you doing to me?" Words were lost as he pushed his fingers impossibly deep and sucked the tiny bundle of nerves between his teeth. My back arched, and my screams echoed through the room. I had never felt such pleasure in my entire life. The high only lasted for a few mind-blowing, dizzying moments, though.

"You mind letting me go, Cassie?" said Hades, still between my legs. I shivered as his cool breath washed over my overheated sex and untangled my fingers from him hair. Righting myself on the pillows was difficult; I felt a bit like a jellyfish. My joints were loose, and my heart was still racing. Hades found a clean part of the towel to wipe off his face and fingers. "Did you enjoy that?" I didn't want to answer him. "Remember, I can read your mind."

I narrowed my eyes and thought angrily, _Damn you. What do you think?_

Hades chuckled. "I'll take that as a 'yes.'" Glancing at the dying fire, he picked me up, cradling me under my rear, to push the blankets back and place us underneath them. Drowsiness began to overcome me as I was engulfed in the warmth beneath the duvet. "Don't you fall asleep just yet; one more thing and I'll be done for the night." A shudder ran through me. There was no doubting what the God of the Dead wanted from me. He planted a lazy kiss on my neck. "I've loosened you up. There's no need to worry."

"Just get it over with," I grumbled. I felt pathetic. It took so little time to break my will. Hades leaned forward and began kissing me passionately, carrying my own taste on his tongue. With one hand, he rubbed my aching breasts; with the other, he hardened himself and moved between my legs. A few moments later, I felt his tip pressing against my entrance. My heart began to accelerate.

"I promise you, it'll only hurt a little bit," he said against my mouth and moved to pull my earlobe into his mouth, garnering a low groan from me. His hips began to move forward, and I felt myself stretching. I whimpered, my hands flying to wrap around him and grip his broad shoulders. He continued moving forward slowly, and at last, his hips met with mine. Hades was right, it barely hurt at all. The curtains around the bed moved by themselves and closed us in. Then the diamonds above us lost their light. Absolute darkness engulfed the two of us. Not having to see him made submitting to the situation easier. I could focus on how it felt, rather than who I was with. The god pulled out partially, and then slid back in slowly. He repeated this movement a few times before he whispered into my ear, "Can I go faster?"

"Yes," I whispered back, barely audible. He pressed hilt deep, and I flexed around him, getting a feel for parts of my anatomy that I had never paid attention to before. Hades moaned and began thrusting steadily. Because I was still sensitive from my last release, the tension in my womb started building quickly. He moved his free hand between my legs and stimulated me even more. "_Yes_," I repeated. What the fuck was happening to me? I was melting beneath the hands of the man who had kidnapped me and stolen my virginity. Hades' thrusts accelerated, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air. His tip hit my cervix repeatedly, sending electrical jolts throughout my body. My eyes were wide open, staring blindly into the darkness.

Hades moaned, moving faster than ever. "_Theoí_, you feel amazing!" Seconds later, my back arched and I wrapped my legs around him. I ground my hips against his, trying to prolong the blissful seconds of my release. When I clenched as hard as I could, Hades' release followed mine. Unlike the rest of his body, his seed was warm and made me feel as if I was liquefying as it spilled into me. We remain locked together for a few minutes, until Hades pulled his softened manhood out of me. He leaned forward and gave me one last fiery kiss. I felt him smile against my lips. "You're mine now, Cassandra."

Then the feeling of him above me was suddenly gone, and I knew that I was finally alone. Defeated, guilty, and defiled, I buried my face in the pillows and cried myself to sleep.


End file.
